


Still playing with that puzzle

by Samozwancza143



Category: Once Upon A Time - Fandom, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Borderline Personality Disorder, Crimes & Criminals, Drama & Romance, F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff, LGBTQ Character, Land Without Magic (Once Upon a Time), Mental Health Issues, Missing Persons, Multi, Murder, Rape, Sexual Abuse, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26824303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samozwancza143/pseuds/Samozwancza143
Summary: They lead completely different lives and still have so much in common. Neither of them expected to meet the other, especially in such circumstances. Detective Robin from Homicide and Missing Persons is always busy, looking to piss off the next monster. But Alice, selling baguettes, hanging out with the troll and painting people, has too much time to think. One wants to solve a case that is becoming an increasingly absorbing obsession, the second girl has no idea what someone got her into. However, soon enough it will be clear: the old days don't always go by and even beloved people pretend.
Relationships: Alice Jones | Tilly & Robin | Margot, Aurora/Mulan (Once Upon a Time), Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Belle/Wicked Witch of the West | Zelena, Cinderella | Jacinda Vidrio/Henry Mills, Dorothy Gale/Red Riding Hood | Ruby, Prince Charming | David Nolan/Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard
Kudos: 2





	1. The birth of beauty and darkness

**Author's Note:**

> “When a human being is born the first thing he does is crying..  
> The rest of his life he'll spend discovering why...” ― Erik Tanghe

**Once upon a time...**

There was a lonely Author, who found last days of Autumn aren't always sad. Some creatures, including plants, are falling asleep, leaving room for others. For those, who got the chance to experience the curosity of existence for the very first time; for those, who could embrace what until now was beyond the reach of senses. Author, however, knew magic isn't the case here. It wasn't about any elegant, poetic words either. 

Even the most brutal, heinous crimes must be told. And some of them start out really beautiful. They easly seduce, lead astray, nurture hope and then trample it. Of course hope does not subsist to be crushed - this should also be written for next generations and another alternatives. 

Disciple sitting on the floor was stirring tea dregs in a chipped cup. Smiled to himself, wandering his thoughts into noble and twisted place at the same moment. What an unearthly aura surrounding such mundane values.

There is a time of terror, then the brightness comes. The rainy season is ending with a shyly rising sun. A child playing football ends up with a worn knee that healed only to romp anew. First dissapointments, then joys. Everything is still comes full circle. The life circle is suprisingly repeatable, although the style of novelty is no stranger to it. Nature doesn't lie. 

With this feeling an Author lay down in a brown toga on a hard mat, closing his eyes and finally seing journey that fate predicted before the rise of mankind. 

_"Tyger Tyger, burning bright,_

_In the forests of the night;_

_What immortal hand or eye,_

_Could frame thy fearful symmetry?"_

* * *

**1987**

The surface of the Hyperion Heights in the early nineties didn't show much that day. Sunrise, dock workers wiping the last drops of sleep from their eyes, here and there construction workers building the beginning of the next decade. The fresh air of dawn mingled with sawdust and the sea breeze. Life began once again. City remained deaf, only a limited group of people in a hospital heard the scream of painful miracle. Someone in a medical blue suit ran into a crambed white room with towels soaked in warm water, nudging the complaining patients on the way. Folks who described such things centuries ago were right. At such moments, all glimpses from the past passes before your eyes. There is no going back, you have to go through it. With red squeezed hand, tears gathering, with a shriek that almost melts eardrums. 

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" 

Poor young man really tried to keep calm that would bring his sweetheart some comfort. But he could see, despite the whole situation, she is still worried about him. Kilian Jones was a traditional gentelman, so he couldn't act as if his body was ready to explode. It was about _her_ and their _family_.

"I can see the head!" Kilian saw the tip of the midwife's cap through the sheat, which blocked the view of Eloise's lower body. Her voice was firm and strong.

"Please tell me it's over. OH MY LOOORD!" 

The man chuckled and kissed his wife hand. "There you go, baby, it's gonna be alright. We will meet our daughter in a few minutes, I promise." 

"Push it!" 

"You better...AAAAAH! Better be sure of it! Damn it!"

"One more time, Eloise, you do great." 

_"One more time." -_ _How it's possible?_ Five hours ago they were on the old yellow couch in the apartment, and he was stroking the woman's stomach tenderly. Suddenly nine months seemed a ridicously short span. Everything worked like a well-oiled machine. Kilian thought he already knew parental instincts, realized that only now, hearing his lovely lady's loud sigh, instinct had just woken up. The next thing Kilian saw was his baby girl in Eloise's tired and warm arms. 

"Look at her" Eloise whispered. "It is exactly what we dreamed of it. She is perfect."

"She has your eyes, my love." The man stroked her head, never taking his eyes off the baby. "This is the best gift you could gave me. Thank you."

"You will be an amazing father." 

If somebody told them magic doesn't exist, they would laugh at this person. They managed to bring _a baby_ into this world. And they knew they would do anything to _protect her_. She is soft, warm, needy and _innocent_. 

* * *

_They were innocent too..._

Message about death of Eloise Gardener's closest relatives spread in the blink of an eye. Only two hours has passed since the visit of the policemen, who provided the tragic informations. The newspaper quickly picked up the topic, but she didn't care about pitying looks from neighbors; about people, who were too afraid to approach her and simply be present; about persons, who talked behind her back, thinking she isn't aware. To be honest, Eloise didn't care about anything at all at this point. She sat by the baby's cot all days and nights, trying to focus on feeding, rewinding and humming lullabies. Blonde woman could hardly look at the brat, not to mention showing affection, which was normal before she lost them. Which was natural, when she came home with her husband, showing Alice her future room, even if an infant didn't understand a single word. Tenderness dissapeared, when Eloise's - austere, though cheerfully bent on the news about a granddaughter - mother and an older sister meant to visit the couple in Hyperion Heights. And they didn't show up. It was her fault. Whenever Kilian repeated she isn't right or begged her to let him help her, she built up a wall around heart and mind. Jones was a witness to it, but was too cowardly to admit he was not supporting or smart enough. Eloise closed her eyes, ignoring the crying Alice in the cradle. Rocking clearly did not soothe this stubborn child. The migraine worsened as the man entered the room. He looked at her so worrying and dull, but Gardener didn't want to think about the man. Instead, she wondered why her dear mum and sister had left? Why in this and not another way? They met often, despite all the differences in views or ways of functioning. They had good bonds. She would have noticed. 

"I need some air." Woman got up, without taking a minute to wait for a reply. 

Eloise always admired the city's architecture. But for the first time she felt like someone who shouldn't be here. Fortunately for her, the police station was not far away. The smell of donuts and hideous coffe hit her as she stepped inside. What was the name of the investigating detective? White? Wave? 

"Mrs. Gardener?" Compared to her life-partner, the man had softer, albeit older, features. She thought he is attractive. "Mrs. Gardener, you remember me? I'm..."

"Detective Weaver, I was looking for you. Can we talk in private?" Eloise looked around, letting him know the intrusive officers who were hiding with sick curosity did not suit her. 

"Of course." Weaver led her to a secluded room, where interrogations were probably held. "How can I help you?" Despite his kindness, she could see that he was also careful. 

"Have new clues emerged in the investigation?" 

"Mrs. Gardener, I know you are having a hard time and I am very sorry for your loss, but I don't think it's healthy..."

"I didn't come for psychological advice, thank you very much." She cleared her throat. "Do you already know something useful? Something to help catch the murderer?" 

"Murderer? Dearie, evidences points to your mother and sister committed suicide. We did not find any fingerprints on the spot, there was no break-in or theft in their house, we ruled out robbery." 

"Why check the possibility of robbery, when they allegedly did it to themselves? A random thief wouldn't disguise an act like this. Unless it was a professional, but then it would be about more than stealing."

Weaver raised his eyebrows. "Like I said, we checked various scenarios. I assure you if there was a murderer - which is very doubtful - we did not find a single trace."

"But what about my testimony? And my husband? We both agreed that it was impossible for them to do so. There were no signs. None!" 

* * *

**1990**

"Papa! Papa! Look!" 

Another day, more smiles. Alice wrapped herself in the green and orange dress that belonged to _her._ Kilian was amazed at how quickly time flew by, how fast his little girl grew. And how long was Eloise gone.

"Me like her?" 

"You don't say that. It is _I'm like her._ And you are beautiful, starfish." 

She giggled. "Me starfish, daddy octopus!" Before he could react, she ran to climb up the wardrobe. 

"Alice, do you remember how it ended last time? It's dangerous." He grabbed her before she could escape and began to tickle her. 

"But papa, adventure!" 

"Listen, if you will be nice I'll take you on a real one, okay?" 

"YAY! Papa best!" 

Jones was terribly tired. He worked two shifts as a plumber and driver, but he just couldn't let his daughter grow up without him. Even if it meant taking her to his job or keeping her entertained all day long. Kilian adored his baby girl. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, taking another sip of the bitter coffee. The photo on the shelf caught his attention again. The park in the background was no longer a favorite. But the sight of Eloise, the memory of her hugging him fondly, still made him miss her like hell. Kilian prayed daily for Eloise to come back. He would accept her with open arms. But every day he also had new doubts. Even though he didn't come to terms with the way she had vanished and had no idea what had happened, he had to keep his feet on the ground. Despite monthly trips to the police station, conversations with his friend - Weaver, independent search - he knew he would have to let go eventually. For Alice. _"Where are you, Eloise? If you don't show up, I'll have to leave you behind."_ Sometimes in his dreams he was again the usher in the theatre, who helped Eloise get to the show through the back door. Never before or after was Kilian so fascinated by a woman. He never invited any of them for a tryst. 

He was angry, but he suppressed it, for Alice's sake. He was also disappointed with Weaver's attitude, because he had given up on the search for his wife faster than the bail bondsperson. Emma Swan helped him much more than police. Though it didn't lead to anything anyway, because the trail broke off. Journalist Sydney Glass who saw Eloise getting into somebody's car three years ago didn't know which way they had gone. And it was still a mistery who Eloise was riding with. But according to the information, Eloise left him, her daughter, and the town of her own free will. Jones did not know what to believe anymore. 

"Papa, Mr. Rabbit can go too?" Alice jumped in place, breaking him out of his reverie. 

"Sure thing, starfish. Are you ready?" 

"Mhmmm" Toddler purred, hugging the mascot. "Mr. Rabbit can't wait". 

"And what will your wonderful friend say about finding new puzzles?" 

"DADDY! I love you!" She squeaked. 

Kilian patted her head, on which hair was so sweetly disheveled it protruded in all possible directions. 

_We are supposed to be our own greatest obstacles. But you, my dearest Alice, will be a great adventure for yourself._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem from the beginning is "Tyger, tyger" by William Blake.


	2. The city of the raising sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some moments mark the beginning of journey that surprises more than we do ourselves. During the trip, it can be sensational, terrible, strange, tiring and interesting. But check out what is happening before it even starts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Not I, nor anyone else can travel that road for you. You must travel it by yourself. It is not far. It is within reach. Perhaps you have been on it since you were born, and did not know. Perhaps it is everywhere - on water and land.”  
> \- Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass.
> 
> (Just for you now, Adam is Weaver, because he needs a first name here and "Adam" was an oryginal prince in Beauty and the Beast)

**2010**

_You flip through dozens of pages just to have imagination of what you cannot achieve for various of reasons. You desperately search for sense, get drunk with fueled emotions and the adrenaline, which doesn't fades away when you slide the book back onto the shelf. It give hope too, allow you to kindle a fire that will eventually let you move forward. This is how it works. This is why fantasizing isn't obnoxious. It's not a dry tool, which takes away joy, oh no! It's a huge lighter, waiting for you to toss it at the spilled gasoline._

Why must these descriptions be so dramatic? Alice sighed, a little in disbelief and because of fatigue. The sign had been hanging on that doors for years and the blonde kept discovering new manifestos behind it. In some way nothing changed. The same theme chased her over and over, and yet it was thrilling, almost mesmerizing. Nobody in their right mind could stop coming to the library, opening books and looking into different nooks and crannies explored by travelers. Certainly not Alice. Visiting the most wonderful places with them, although only from a small blur on the map of the United States, gave the girl a solace, even if she did not experience the wonders of nature by herself. She could almost feel Australian hot breath or Icelandic frost on her pale skin.

Alice felt odd. Whenever she asked papa if she can go with him on one of his adventures, he kept saying: " _Starfish, you don't have to be in constant motion to get to know the world and learn yourself anew. First you should stand still and look at what you see. Really look at it. There are quite a few perspectives about which are waiting for you to open them up."_ Sure, she was jealous, because it is easy for Kilian to say such things, when he touched the life that she dreams of. On the other hand, daddy just cared deeply for her and Alice knew well her father's words are always meaningful and worth remembering. Papa is extremely wise and he is her best friend (besides Mr. Rabbit) - the man would never do anything to especially hurt little lass. 

"Dream on, little dreamer."

Alice's eyes widened. She turned to see a familiar face. "Oh bugger, is it closing time?!"

"No, no, it's okay, we have a couple of hours left." Belle chuckled. "I figured you might want some tea and an orange sandwich."

"Did I tell you that you are a savior?" She squeaked, immediately chewing on her settee.

"I think I heard it somewhere once or twice. By the way, you managed to sail further than last time. What made you hypnotized today?"

"Oh you know me. I wrap my head around many things and you can never guess what will it be this time." 

"Like I said, _dreamer_. Don't you dare to stop." 

"Sometimes it's hard for me to keep up with what I want. I don't always know what's good for me and what's not. So many contradictory signals..." 

"I understand it more than you think. But you know what helped me while break up with my husband?"

_Alice, why you always bringing hard topics out of everyone? They don't need to experience their pain once again. _

Belle sat down beside her, putting her hand on the younger girl's shoulder. "Me and him aknowledged that we will be with each other anyway. We are still together, even if we are in separation."

"But I am not divorced or something." Alice frowned in confusion. "And I have not a person..."

Brunete teheed. "I'm aware. I'm just saying, you should listen to your heart more than you are listening to people. Believe knowledge is the most powerful weapon of all and with knowledge about yourself - you can move mountains."

_Even such beautiful and sincere promises do not apply to you, Alice. You're too weird, your friend is not enough for you? You can't find comfort in this, because you are lost and you can't find out what is happening to you._

"Alice?" 

It's about pure confusion, really. Being very high and very low in life is normal for Alice, but why does it seem so extreme from time to time? There was this wave of thoughts again. The blonde hate when it happens in the moments, when she is with another person. That's not cool, not right, not...

"Hey, are you feeling alright?" Belle broke her out of the trance. 

"Why? What?" Her eyes darted for a moment. "Ah, yes, sorry. I'm fine." _Lies. More lies._

_Well done, Alice. You are lying to one human being (besides your dad), who sees you._

_"_ Please don't do this. It's happening again, isn't it? I said I can lend you money. You have to take care of yourself." Belle was clearly worried. 

"Can we not talk about it? And no, I'm making money myself, and you're doing too much for me anyway." She smiled shyly. "You wanted to chat about something else too, am I right?" 

Pause. 

"I swear I will go to the doctor, but not today and not tomorrow." She assured a friend. 

"If you are sure about it..." 

"Shoot." 

"I have to return Adam the documents of a certain matter that he left in my home. Can you come with me to give it to him?"

"No problem here. I would love to stretch my legs!" 

"That's the spirit." 

And they're walking. Nothing left to say, at least for now. Alice spoted incoming call, but ignored it.

Despite the complicated history she has with 42nd Precinct Police Station, Alice was surprised she felt so damn good there. It was relatively safe. Probably it is uncommon to see a person, who likes police stations. All the more so if the same person has a hard past with the law. Several of the constables smiled at her, one waved too. 

"You have a lot of colleagues here." Belle whispered.

_ Not colleagues. They only feel pity for you, Alice. _

"Um, yeah." She swallowed awkwardly, not knowing how to respond. Fortunately her companion didn't need an answer. 

"Good morning, ladies." Samuel B. Ryce wasn't a kind and warm individual, more than he greeted them, he wanted them to leave; so the sooner they get something done, the better for him. "Are you two looking for Detective Weaver?"

Belle nodded.

"Sweetheart, don't worry." The male's gaze went to the brunete. "His new mate isn't his type. Way too young." He gulped. "Well, not that you are old. Obviously not..."

"Thanks for help, I can see Adam already." Woman cut him off without hesistation.

"What a creepy way to entertain a woman." Alice said, more to herself, than to her friend. But she could swear Belle laughed. What's better, Alice never saw Belle laughing about this kind of stuff!

Weaver greeted both of them as usual, devoting more than three seconds to Alice. The blonde liked it, because Weaver tried not to let her feel like a fifth wheel on a cart. Short after that they excused her and went somewhere. _So what now? Think, Alice, think._ The walls were not interesting and there were no pretty paintings on them. Just photos of the fallen policemen she had gotten to know thanks to stories, which Weaver told her. Ladies and gentelmen here, or at least part of this team, died because of a constant need for adventure. Of course they were a heroes, but thought about how their lives ended pierced Alice with apprehension. 

_Poor girl, you die sitting still, you will die running. You have nothing to do with yourself. You are left to oscillate quietly somewhere in between._

The chairs weren't changed over the years, so she didn't choose back pain, sitting on the floor. From the dark green backpack the blonde pulled out a set of pencils from papa and began sketching anything that caught her eyes. Until Alice saw her. _This must be the new asquisition Ryce talked about._ Mistery person entered in a hurry, brushing the rain off coat. She looked like she was having a rough day. _Aren't we all?_

* * *

 _Pathetic._ She practically ran to the bathroom while applying toothpaste to the brush and pulling up her T-shirt at the same time. How could she be so idiotic yesterday? Going out for a drink was one thing, but ending up an all-night party with not necessarily friends, was totally irresponsible. Robin didn't regret everything tho. It was fun, crazy, but fun. She met this girl with a smile that announced their togetherness at the beginning. In some way staying there until people went to sleep paid off, despite the current migraine and - what pissed her off more - the first delay since she started working in the department at Hyperion Heights. _Okay, breathe. Breathe._ Robin always did, and it never helped. Maybe some day. She finished her makeup, glancing briefly in the mirror for the last time before she storm off from the apartment. 

"SHIT!" She snarled, coming back to lock the door. Luckily the taxi driver took pity on her fairly quickly. Shame that it failed at the traffic jams, which were already forming on the main artery of the city. Robin really hoped Mr. Gus will be there when she will arrive. The only thing left in the case is to complete the formalities and make sure his helpmate is recovering after the kidnapping. Oh, this was a hard nut to crack. If not for the hair found at the crime scene and the seller, who steered them on the next trail, police wouldn't have discovered where Isabel was being held so quickly. An hour or two later and it would have ended in a funeral, not Gus' tears of happiness, Isabel's relief and stopping the hijacker. Hyperion Heights was cleared of yet another bandit who had no morals. Robin knew people like him; people, who, for some reason, looked more like monsters. Though their unpredictability, there was usually at least one thing predictable about their actions - even if the most hidden. And it was her job to detect it. Despite her young age, she has achieved so much many would envy her. She didn't like to see it that way, although she knew her worth. The woman was far from false modesty. 

The next fifteen minutes dragged on forever, but decisively she contrived to get to commissariat. In a rush she tossed the money into the can in car, entered the building and ignored that Sam was already opening his mouth to say something, she might wish not to hear after all. In the changing room, she freshened up apace, smoothing her jacket with her hands. Robin felt like a teenager who had come to her first employment. _Blast! Go in there and make somebody regred doing bad. You can face Weaver, he isn't scary. He isn't scary at all. Maybe a little rigid._

"Good afternoon. I'm glad you chose to appear dearie." She almost jumped at the sound of a familiar voice. 

"Detective." She stood up straight. 

"I'm not going to make a scandal out of it. I am a human." The man smiled at her weirdly. "But think for yourself: if the inhabitants you can save can't get you out of the bed in time, what will it do?" He looked her straight in the eye. Robin Mills did not give up keeping her position. "Okay, now you can take care of Gus. Didn't you think I'd do it for you?" 

Meeting with Mr. Gus didn't take long. The Archer could breathe before she moved to action. She decided to grab a coffee from the vending machine in the hallway. Robin wanted to take the coins from her pocket, but found a piece of paper with a phone number instead. _Iva? Ivy?_ Whoever wrote it had no legible handwriting, however Robin's memory allowed for the association of the situation. Interest in the repetition of the entertainment flattered her, but she herself was in no rush to do so. Then she noticed the girl sitting on the floor and leaning against the brown wall. The stranger must have come earlier, because she seemed to be settled. Was she waiting? Was she in need? She definietly look relaxed, but who knows...So Robin made her way to the girl and like it or not - she spoted the notebook in which the blonde drew...her? _Wow, she is pretty talented._ Abrubtly foreigner raised her head. 

"Hi."

"Hello."

"Hey."

"You said that already." 

_Congratulations, Robin, you did great and you didn't make a dork out of yourself._ "Well, I thought you need some help..."

"Nah. I'm not here to report anything. Actually somebody should report me, cause two days ago I forgot to put candies back onto the shelf in the kiosk nearby and I have remorse." 

"Um..."

"Oh duck! I spited out my secret, am I? You have to arrest me now, right? I swear, it wasn't like...like with premeditation! I will go there today anyway, I must to buy a few sanwiches and muffins, so I'll pay more for my purchases!" 

Detective Mills couldn't help it and bursted of laughing. Seeing the serious face of the interlocutor, the Archer did her best to pull herself together. She stood up straight. "Sorry, sorry. I...well, if you promise it won't happen again, I'll turn a blind eye to it."

"Really?"

"Really, really." 

"Geeez! Awesome!" She clapped her hands. "Wait, wait. As a gratitude, I'll give you a special gift, miss...?" 

"Robin. Detective Robin Mills" 

"First of all, D E T E C T I V E? I thought you came, cause your stolen car or something. Nevermind. So, here it is. I hope you don't mind, but when you came in, I couldn't stop myself." She whispered shyly, tearing a piece of paper from her notebook and handing it to Robin. 

Detective studied souvenir for a minute. It amazed her. There she was, on the piece of paper. The resemblance was huge, almost realistic with elements of abstract shapes all around. "Whoa, it's beautiful. Thank you...?"

"Alice." 

"Like Alice from Wonderland?" She raised her eyebrows amusingly. 

"And from other places. She was in other places as well! Nobody ever remember..." She pouted. "Besides, you have no right to judge. You are called like Robin Hood."

"Fair enough." 

Taller woman couldn't shake the feeling that she knew Alice from somewhere, but before she thought about it, she remembered there was such a thing as duties. 

"I don't want to distract you from work. Go, have a nice day. Hope the adventures will be fun." 

"I honestly doubt it, but hey, thanks. And thank you for picture."

Alice grinned, going back to the previous occupation. "Don't mention it." 

Robin's day got a little brighter, but she still had to deal with her boss. Suddenly she heard door slam, right after that Weaver walking briskly toward her. "We have a job to do." He said dryly, wading on. "The headquarters received a notification, some crone heard a shot near the warehouse at the intersection of Silgo Ave and Fenton Street." She nodded without a word. "Detective, the attacker may still be armed. We don't know what awaits for us. You don't step away from me and no initiative of your own, you listen to what I say, got it?"

"Of course." 

"Let's settle it smoothly, we both wants to live to our lunch break." 

Robin reloaded her gun. They drove to the rear of the building, where they crept along the wall as far as the side entrance. In front of them the unit was waiting for a sign to start the action. A cop verbally counted down to three, everyone slipped inside. It was dark, cold and meek. The first floor has been scoured very accurately. They splited into groups to search other levels. Weaver and his subordinate found a kind of gold vein, which in this case turned out to be someone's...cough.

"To everyone, we have a person on the third floor in the west wing, about twenty meters from the stairwell entrance." He looked at Robin. 

"Police, don't move! Don't move! Hands in sight! Place your weapon on the floor and move it further away from you. Slowly turn around and kneel down. Hands above your head! Now!"

Dude did as he was told. He tried to scratch his nose. 

"Be still, don't do anything stupid!" Weaver aimed at a man, Robin was standing on the other side, doing the same. 

"What is this about?" 

Younger Detective handcuffed the guy. "We need to clear up a few things. For example, why did you shoot?" 

"What the hell?! I didn't shoot anybody!" He jerked, but was thrown to the ground. 

"Do you want to have another allegations? Of assault on officers for example?" 

Silence. 

"My partner asked you a question. Why did you shoot?"

"I fired accidentally, I swear!" 

"Yeah, yeah. Well, we will go to the police station now. There you will explain why you accidentally had a loaded pistol in your hand and why you accidentally appeared in this place."

Something was wrong, the Archer felt it. On the one hand, he seemed nervous and surprised, on the other hand it looked like he wanted to get caught. 

"Fuck." She rubbed her forehead as she looked through a Venetian mirror at Weaver, who was talking with - apparently - Bill Hodgens. Weaver keep it cool, but he knew something was not right here too. But it would be hard to blame a dude for anything since there was no evidence or even a case against him. Soon the senior Detective joined her. 

"The sound of the shot is not enough to hold him in the cell even for 24 hours." 

"So this is it?" She frowned.

"Would you suggest something else? We have nothing. Bill's clean." 

"You and I both are able to tell that it's not the end." 

"Even if you're right, we can't hold him only because a hunch." He instructed. 

"What about his tattoo?" 

"Hm?"

"Did you see tattoo like his? I am not and it look fanciful." 

"I get it, you want to prevent bad events, but it is not know if there is what. Finding a hole in everything, especially because of his tattoo, is not our mission." 

"Don't we always must look for the holes?" Robin chirped, too angry for her liking. 

"Detective, my point is, we are not a clairvoyants and if there is no sign of a crime, we are not needed." 

The worst part is that Weaver isn't mistaken. Mills started to fill out the incident report. The most boring part of the job didn't bother her this time, though, because it helped her gather her thoughts. The inaccuracies increased the doubts. Why were they summoned to a potential shootout? Why, on the basis of the information they obtained earlier, no fimple officers were sent there, but the two detectives? However, Robin did not have the strenght to do it at the moment, so she postponed the conversation with her superior until the following day. Homicide and Missing Persons Detective only reacted to a phone call about abandoned vehicle near a garbage dump, but a few hours later the crime was ruled out. At 9 p.m. she was close to be prepared to leave, when voices reached her ears. 

"You are a bad liar, Bill. It seems to you that if we have nothing on you, we will do nothing to you. But that's not true. Some of us are worse than those you have feared so far." 

She was standing like a pillar of salt. Weaver was allowing himself too much; sure, this wasn't the first time, and she'd heard rumors that have something to do with the truth - especially since now she has verified it herself. Robin mastered herself, waiting for them to continue.

"You know what we did to people like you in the military? I doubt you want to find out. Your fingers could get hurt. You are a smart man, Bill, so I ask one last time: where did you come from, why did they let you out and who got your tattoo?!"

Shit was getting out of hand. Should Robin react? 

"Why should I say aloud what you already guess?" Bill laughed horribly. "You're just keeping me here so that you can justify yourself before acting right away, yes? Like you did twenty-three years ago? Let me tell you one thing, _Adam_ , you are still helpless. You won't go beyond the fear, which has kept you alive for so long, so nothing will change. This challenge is not new to you, so you will not be any diferent from then, you bastard!" 

And that was her cue to get the hell out of there. Instead of going home, the Archer went down to the archives. _Training must wait._


End file.
